


Trust Fall

by NevillesGran



Series: The One Where Tarvek is Functionally Wasped [Abandoned] [2]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Girl Genius Event Week 2018, Half Writing; Half Outline, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, unfinished fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevillesGran/pseuds/NevillesGran
Summary: A story untold of an alternate timeline in which Lucrezia Mongfish was…even more evil than in the main Girl Genius story. Or perhaps more foresightful, or ambitious—or more lazy. It had taken rather a lot of effort to manage her first husband. Perhaps she wanted her next more…biddable.This story takes up where “Stormfront” leaves off.





	1. Tipping Point

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic is only truly written for the first chapter and a half. The rest of Chapter 2 is outlined only. Chapter 3 includes the would-be Chapters 3-4+Epilogue in a rougher outline form, because I've given up on this fic but I'm neatening what I've got and sharing it for the 2018 Girl Genius Event Week, Day 2 challenge: **Sturmhalten** /Mechanicsburg/Paris. 
> 
> Then just for the hell of it, I've included the outline for the even more hypothetical third fic in the series, retelling the Mechanicsburg arc, which I absolutely gave up on halfway through.

“ ** _Kneel,_** _you **miserable minion!**_ ”

That voice. The pitch, the tone, the ringing harmonics of command.

“Tarvek!” the Prince exclaimed. “It’s _her!_ ” He looked from his audiometers to his son, who had slid from his chair to his knees with a hollow thump. Now Tarvek just stared at the finely carved wood of the royal box, as if he could see through it to the woman on the stage below.

“It’s _her_ , isn’t it?” Prince Aaronev repeated greedily, spark harmonics burning in his voice as well. But so much less brightly. “You can _feel_ it? _She’s_ **_returned!_** ”

Tarvek swallowed, dry-mouthed. He couldn’t breathe. His knees smarted. His whole body smarted, under the skin, with the force of the woman’s voice. The Lady’s. He’d thought—he _hadn’t_ thought— **_Kneel,_** _you **miserable minion.**_ The words didn’t echo, quite: they just _filled_. As did everything she’d said since then, was still saying (“How _dare_ you _intrude_ here, in my _private inner sanctum?_ You will…”) No more commands but all in that same arch, furiously sparking tone, lightning striking through a child’s first conduction circuit. Setting it aflame. His nerves were the thin copper filament.

It didn’t even occur to him to prevaricate. “Yes.” Even the single word barely came out. He wet his lips and tried again. “It’s _Her_.”

The Prince crowed. Tarvek stared at the woodwork of the box, unseeing, and sought the madness place like a child might seek a favored blanket. He thought he might be there already, his mental palace shattered like the glass it was (broken by the Heterodyne Girl, just like the real one.) Madness flowing free in his mind. He should have known the dream couldn’t last. He clung to the sea instead of the drifting debris and used the strength of it to stumble back to his feet.

Or maybe it was just that the Lady hadn’t given a timeframe on her command to kneel. He’d done it; he could stop.

“We _must_ get her back to the Palace,” the Prince was saying, eyes gleaming. He rubbed his hands together like a pantomime madboy. “ ** _Immediately_**.”

It was, some distant corner of Tarvek’s mind commented dryly, good to know that his father was unsurprised to see him shell-shocked and kneeling at Lucrezia’s daughter’s command. He’d always wondered if the Prince knew what his “Mistress” had done to his only son. Good to know where they both stood.

“We should _at least_ wait until the show is _over_ ,” Tarvek replied, trying to sound mad with interest, excitement even, rather than simply despair. He leaned against the edge of the balcony and for a giddy moment thought he might tip over, fall literally at the feet of the blonde striding around the stage like she owned the theater.

For all intents and purposes, she did. Every eye in the audience was on her, wide with terror and awe as the people knelt. If Tarvek’s research was correct, it was something between an induced effect and a natural reaction to the shock of losing control. They were helpless. _He_ was helpless.

“Tell me where the _Great Hex Key_ is hidden!” the actress demanded, and the young man playing Bill Heterodyne replied with something defiant and laced with innuendo. Tarvek just barely managed to keep his obedient response to a whisper (it was in the boiler room behind the monastery; he’d missed the reveal in Act One but he’d seen this play before.) It was enough. Just barely. He had done his duty. She got the answer from the audience, anyway, in a ragged, quavering chorus.

Tarvek pushed himself away from the edge of the box. “I’ll make sure everything is prepared,” he said, over his father’s musings that yes, he supposed they could observe the proprieties. He had to get away. From the Prince and the actress. Had to think, had to calm down, had to (“ _Bring our Lady home_.” “ _Do **not** attempt to change your fate with the Eternal Lady_.” The Geisterdamen’s voices echoed in his memory, no more fine glass walls to hold them back, and they didn’t have the same effect after the fact but it didn’t matter because _She was **here**_.)

“Yes, yes.” The Prince’s eyes were glued to his lover’s daughter on the stage. “Ready the summoning engine. _This_ time we won’t have to wait through dinner. _”_

Tarvek was already out the door. There was still time. He had _plans_. He _refused_ to give them up just because _the_ **_Lady_** _was **here**_ (or _near enough_ ) and he wasn’t sure if there was a tremor in his hands or if he was just _imagining_ it, or _which was_ _worse_. He could _stop_ this. He _would_ stop this. He would _do_ _something_ …

-

He could do nothing. Absolutely nothing. His father had a smoke knight watching over Her almost immediately, from the theater to the Palace. Tarvek had his own knights, some even who would go against the Prince, but not without it being known who had sent them. And they were all wasped; one word and they would be lost. (He should have saved more of them, should have found a way…but he’d stopped thinking they’d really find her.)

By the time She was on the front steps, he didn’t care anymore if everyone knew he was the one who killed her. _Europa_ would thank him, and he could _manage_ his family. But he couldn’t. Do anything. Not to _Her_. In his mind he drew a knife from his sleeve and plunged it into her chest before she could speak, staining her pale dress with violently clashing red. Caught her as she fell, covered her mouth with one hand so she _couldn’t stop him_ —

And aloud, in the real world, he bowed over her hand and murmured “ _Enchante_ ,” charming as he’d been trained. Madness leaked into his voice and she leaned forward just slightly, intrigued behind her veneer of gentility. Tarvek shuddered behind his.

His mask was better.

In too short a time they were at the doors of the chapel, and Prince Aaronev had guards waiting to grab her and put a drug-sopped handkerchief over her mouth before she could order them to let her go. Tarvek almost, _almost_ stopped them, something screaming in the marrow of his bones that this girl was to be _protected at_ _all cost_. And because he _needed_ to stop this, yes, that was it. That was why he itched to pull her away, keep her safe from the Prince and the Geisterdamen and anyone else who dared attack her.

He knew every chemical process of the altruistic instinct that kept him trailing after her like a faithful hound. He ran through the molecular formulae in his head. The conceptualization didn’t negate the reality.

“—you certain this is the right course?” Anevka was asking as he entered. “If it really is the right girl, you could kill her.”

She was arrayed with her fine dress and extravagant jewelry and strongmen carrying her dead brain in its beautiful hoax of a maintenance chamber, and unspoken went, _like you’ve killed every other girl. Like you killed me._ Anevka knew where she stood, too.

Tarvek nearly snapped at her himself, before the Prince could dismiss the question. Of _course_ it would work. He’d built most the machine _himself_. (And how did the Revolution go for you, Monsieur Guillotine?)

“ ** _Bah!_** ” snarled the Prince. “The _others_ died because they were _not_ **_her_**. Tell her, Tarvek.”

“ _It’ll work_.” The words sounded dull to his ears, but they quivered with fugue-fervor. He didn’t have anywhere else to hide. He opened his pocket watch and began fiddling the gears into more efficient positions, an old trick for focusing his mind while seeming absentmindedly mad to onlookers. He could reform them into a miniature dagger if he pressed the right parts together.

“ _Strap her in!_ ”

The guards obeyed. The Prince hovered over them like a man at the mouth of a dragon’s hoard he’d found free for the taking. Statues and portraits of Lady Lucrezia looked on from every direction. Tarvek played his tic until it stopped ticking, and failed not to observe as well. The Lady-to-be didn’t fight back; she was limp and smiling vaguely, psychicurrent injectors bearing down on her head like an inverted crown. Anevka frowned as much as she was able. The guards were too well-trained to flee the room the second they were done; they just marched out as quickly as could be proper. There was nothing else they could do.

The Prince strode back to the lever by the wall, under the bust of Lucrezia-the-Goddess. “ ** _Now!_** ” he cried, as his children watched over his shoulder, and—

Fell, clutching at his neck, where Tarvek’s clockwork dagger had opened up a red flood.

It ran into the burgundy of his collar, and into the cracks on the stone floor as he staggered and fell. He tried to speak, to shout, but the knife had sliced through his windpipe as well. Tarvek had been trained in more than charm.

“Oh,” said Anevka, mechanical voice vaguely disappointed. “I was going to do that.”

“ _What?_ ”

Tarvek whipped around, hysterical even to his own ears. Even through the rushing of the sea. Madness in his mind, blood pooling too close to his shoes—he’d killed before, assassins. But he had to _stop this_ , and he couldn’t touch _Her_ —

“Oh yes.” Anevka mimed a zapping motion with her hand, which he hadn’t realized was upraised. Sparks played on her fingertips. “I thought you would rather appreciate the gesture. But here, I can still do my part.”

Her strongmen were standing as far as possible from the royal family; they had to scrabble not to drop Anevka’s brain as she moved more than humanly fast over to the girl on the golden throne. One tap of her slim, singeing finger and the Girl slumped forward.

Tarvek stopped breathing until he was beside them, the Girl’s pulse strong beneath his fingertips. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“Helping you, of course,” replied his sister. She tilted her head, considering. “Well, helping you help me, I suppose.”

She broke the straps binding the Girl to the chair and pulled her away. Tarvek had to consciously drop Her wrist to let it happen.

“ _What_ do you mean by _that?_ ” he demanded.

Anevka made the slight, wide-eyed headshake that was her equivalent of rolling her eyes. “Do you think I’m stupid, brother? Please, don’t answer that.” She held the Girl up easily, with just one hand curled around the base of her throat. “You can’t let her be hurt, so it seems that _I_ am in charge now. Try to stab _me_ in the back, and—” Her other hand crackled with electricity, hovering just above Her forehead _nonotagainmustntharmher_ —

“ _Anevka_ — ** _sleep_**.”

The words tumbled from Tarvek’s mouth almost before he knew what they were, and he caught Lucrezia’s daughter as she slipped out of Anevka’s suddenly loose grasp. His sister had frozen, eyes dim, limbs slack.

“Did you think _I_ was stupid?”

(He didn’t have to struggle to remember nightmares like this, from the side stilled with a word. But he knew his sister. What would and would not stop her. He’d long-since made certain he was the former.)

But he felt sick to his stomach with the sight of her, standing like a talking doll shut off when playtime ended. With the soft weight of the Girl in his arms, flushed and vulnerable and every centimeter a ticking bomb (to be _protected_. _Aided. Served.)_ The scent of her hair blended with the iron tang of blood from the Prince—the former Prince. The lights were all still on, the throne ready for its victim, and Anevka’s strongmen and hundreds of Lucrezias stared at him with his three still bodies, fainting and frozen and felled.

Tarvek closed his eyes, and did his best to draw a deep breath without inhaling any…anything. Blood or perfume. “ _I need_ a _**lab**_.”


	2. Scramble for Balance

Agatha’s world was soft. Not light, not floating, just…muffled, as if everything was happening a very long way away. There has been a…a church? With statues. And a Muse, all dressed for the King.

Her thoughts drifted like cirrus clouds. Nothing was urgent. But she wanted to know what was going on, so she lazily pulled the wisps together until she could open her eyes. It didn’t hurt to do that anymore. That was nice.

There was a ceiling. It was a very nice ceiling. All…stoney. It was another couple drifting minutes before she thought to turn her head away from it.

A laboratory! At least, it looked like a laboratory. Mostly biochemical, bubbling vials and sheets of molecular diagrams and a magnificent array of surgery tools. But there was also some mechanical…doohickeys. And she was on a bed, not a slab. There were pillows and blankets. That explained the softness.

Someone came into view—the prince. The nice, young one, not the tyrant who was supposed to rule the town. She smiled at him drowsily. He was a spark, she’d heard it in his voice earlier. This must be his laboratory.

“You have a very nice lab,” she said, or tried to say. No words came out.

“My—ah, Miss Heterodyne?” he asked.

Agatha opened her mouth again, but still no sound came out. There was something around her neck, metal like her old locket. Her cottony thoughts trembled, fear and rage. She didn’t like the locket. And there…there could be something bad about lying down in a spark’s lab, even if she wasn’t strapped in.

“Please don’t be concerned,” Prince Tarvek said quickly. “You ran afoul of one of my father’s experiments, but you’re safe now. I’m keeping you here for observation.”

He drew her arm gently out from under the blanket while he spoke, and took her pulse. That made sense, if he was keeping her for observation. He adjusted something just to the side of her head, a machine of some sort, attached by a thin tube to a needle in her wrist. She hadn’t noticed that. It didn’t hurt. Even the collar around her neck was just…there.

“You just need rest,” the prince reassured her, and Agatha felt a glimmer of rebellion (no _sedatives!_ ) but had to agree that he sounded right. Everything invited her to sink back. She stopped fighting to keep her eyes open and let him tuck her limp arm back under the covers. How kind. They were very soft…

Tarvek’s heartbeat settled as the Girl’s did. The vibration-dampening collar worked. She couldn’t undo him with a sharp word if she couldn’t make a sound. And keeping her indefinitely under sedation was apparently within his purview as well, so long as the effects weren’t permanent. Especially with the cordial he’d whipped up to inhibit some of his simpler hormonal responses to her… _everything_.

He hadn’t slept in over twenty hours, but that was _fine,_ that was almost normal. He had stimulants, too, and a driving fugue state. He wasn’t as in control as usual, but he didn’t have time to be concerned—there was _far_ too much to do. He _needed_ to **_fix himself_** , but he couldn’t do that until he had about a week to undergo the retrogenesis treatment and recover with nobody needing or _attacking_ him while he was _vulnerable_. And he wouldn’t get _that_ until after the inevitable quaestor came. To inspect the Prince’s “lab accident”, for which he _still_ needed to think up a decent story— _preferably_ without blaming Anevka. Though that was an option he hadn’t discarded. She was still “sleeping” in one of his non-secret labs upstairs. “Post-mortem clank gone mad” was an old, _acceptable_ tale. Her attendants wouldn’t talk: they were in the dungeon. _Far_ from the Geisterdamen Anevka put there last week. More importantly, Tarvek had terrified them. But the Geisters would _eventually_ hear about the Girl, and then _all_ _hell_ would break loose. Wulfenbach or _no_. Tarvek could only _hope_ they wouldn’t disrupt anything when the Baron’s man was around. He’d ordered every passageway between the Castle and the catacombs _barred and collapsed_ , and by the ever-so-faint vibrations in the floor, the work was progressing well, but that would only keep them for _so long._ He’d need to inspect the work in another minute, and make sure his people caught _all_ the secret passages, and then—and then—

He’d even been forced to send _Tinka_ away, when she found him carrying the Girl to his lab and started asking about Master Payne’s circus. Of her _own_ _initiative!_ He’d sent orders for the circus to be detained, at least, if only so he could find out whether they’d known about the Girl. In a spare moment.

He checked Agatha’s vitals again. Her blood pressure was still a little high, but her neural activity indicated nothing more than deep sleep. The solution of nutrients and sedatives was still slipping steadily into her veins, and he had over a day’s worth ready in the machine. Nothing to worry about.

He wished he could knock out the entire _world_ for a couple days, just to catch his balance again. Scrub Lucrezia’s influence from his body _once and for all_. Some sort of _narcotic nerve agent_ , that preferably dispersed at _hyper-gaseous speeds_. Only _small, simple chemicals_ …

Of _course!_ Why hadn’t he thought about gassing the tunnels _before?_ It was the _obvious_ solution. The Geisterdamen were often immune to weapons of human chemistry, but Tarvek had blood samples, and _test subjects_ in the dungeon.

Ammonium, sulphur dichloride…he started grabbing bottles off the shelves. And then—and _then_ he would deal with the Girl. She wasn’t surprised to be addressed as “Heterodyne”; that might _complicate_ things. But there was a good chance she was just as much Lucrezia’s victim as he was. She certainly hadn’t _chosen_ to have her personality overwritten. None of his really _good_ plans accounted for finding her, particularly not before _everything else_ was ready, but he could improvise. He did **_not_** intend to wed another Euphrosynia, not when she was _half **Mongfish**_ as well, but there might be options other than killing her or handing her over to _Wulfenbach_.

And if she _wasn’t_ innocent of her mother’s plans, well, he was already keeping her _asleep_ and _silent_ (redundant, but he _wasn’t taking chances_ ) until _he_ at least was free of her control. _Next_ —

There was a knock on the door, erratic rhythm. A broken, fluting voice called, “Hi-highness? I-I-I—”

 _Damn_ _it_ , he was **_working_** , he didn’t have _time_ for—no, Tarvek _always_ had time for his Muse, if only a second. He dropped the pipet and strode over to unlock, wrench open the door. “I _need_ you to **_stay_** —”

The admonishment died on his lips. Tinka wrung her elegant hands—at him, at her own disheveled state, at the clank seated in an elaborate cart at her side. “I—sorry-ry. I brought– thought- brought-”

The second clank was staring at her sister in concern, but then her gaze shifted to Tarvek and she ducked her head in what might have been construed as a shy smile. Beads on her shirt clanked as she proffered a notebook with a familiar sigil. _Van Rijn_.

“ ** _Moxana_**.”

-

Two Geisterdamen warriors stood in front of a jumble of rocks that used to be the entrance to a tunnel to the surface. One held a lantern of sorts, a glass bulb of glowing sewer water. The other poked the stones with her sword in a desultory manner.

“<It’s no use,>” said the one with the sword. She used it to point. “<See, there are much greater slabs behind the debris.>”

The other cursed. “<That makes every passage on the east side. We must tell the High—>”

She broke off, closing her hand around the light. The shadows deepened. “<What was that?>”

There was an odd, echoing yowling from within the walls of the tunnel. The white warriors went back to back, swords ready. Even for Geisterdamen, the Sturmhalten sewers were not a safe place, and now it seemed the Prince had (inevitably) betrayed them…

A large white cat squeezed out of a crack in the wall and trotted toward them, still crying. Its white fur was matted with luminescent green muck. “Mro-owr!”

The Geisterdamen relaxed. “<It’s just a pet,>” said the one who’d been poking the stones. “<See how neat its fur?>”

Her partner snorted. “<Not really.>” She let the light shine out again, though she didn’t resheath her sword. “<Not our problem, anyway. Come, we have to tell Vrin what we’ve found.>”

“<I’m behind you,>” the other replied.

“Mrowr!” repeated the cat, and started following them back down the stony corridor. When they turned the corner, however, it stopped and began washing itself, ears pricked. Not with its tongue—it put a great deal of effort into wiping the muck off with its paws.

Another couple minutes in the dark and it reared up on its hind legs and walked back to the crack in the wall—keeping a couple meters back. “We’re clear.”

The given space was justified. With a grumble and a booming _snap_ , a section of stone cracked from the wall, spilling five people to the tunnel floor out of a space that should have fit maybe three. A long shaft with a broken ladder stretched down from where they’d been huddled; starting three splintering slats down, it was full of glowing liquid that went _gloop_.

“Hy tink ve should haff taken dem,” grumbled Oggie.

“Yah,” Maxim wiped glowing sewer gunk off his hat with a sharp-toothed grin. “De last group vas pretty fun to beat.”

“Yes, which is why they now know we’re here,” said Krosp, with the air of a cat who had said the same thing many times in the last several hours. “Haven’t any of you heard of ‘stealth tactics’?”

“Dun mind dem,” Dimo advised in a loud whisper. “Ve iz verra gud at being schneaky ven ve haff to.”

“Hey!” Lars shouted from the rockpile at the end of the tunnel. He was pressing the side of his face against the place where fallen stone met wall. “I think I can feel a draft! This must lead to the surface!”

“’Schneaky,’” Krosp repeated, deadpan.

“He iz not jägerkin,” said Dimo. “Iz not our fault.”

“He could be,” said Maxim, nudging Oggie in the ribs with at least a _quiet_ sing-song voice. “Ifffen de Lady—”

“Hy dun tink she likes him _dot_ vay,” said Oggie, nudging back. “More like—”

“All of you be quiet,” Zeetha hissed over her shoulder. She was prodding at the stones blocking the tunnel. “Geisters aren’t deaf.”

“Yeah, _shot op_ ,” said Dimo, smacking them both on the head.

“Thank you,” muttered Krosp. He walked forward to peer metaphorically over Zeetha’s shoulder, and literally around her legs. “Think we can move them?”

“If we had some sort of lever,” Lars said thoughtfully.

“Ve could ram it!” suggested Oggie. He held out his triple-headed ax as an optional ramming device. All four men all eyed it thoughtfully, though Dimo also rubbed his shoulder in a considering manner. He’d dislocated it in a oubliette a couple hours ago, but it was fine now, and anyway he had a spare.

Zeetha shook her head, and unsheathed her swords. “I’ve got this. Everyone stand back.”

There was a _glint_ in her eyes. They stood back.

Zeetha closed her eyes as if in meditation. For a few deep breaths, she was still. Then she snapped into motion like a racer at a starting gun, with a fangy growl and a whirl of blades so fast they hissed through the air, and seemed to generate more light than could be accounted for by reflection of the glowing waste staining all their clothes. The slabs of rock split like crisp torn paper.

“Wow,” Dimo said softly when she’d finished, panting. “Dose are some _nize blades_.”

“Ken hy—” asked Maxim, tentatively holding out his good hand.

“No,” Zeetha said shortly. She returned the forking blade to her back, but kept the other out as she stepped over the slices of rock that now littered the tunnel floor. Everyone could feel the draft now, though they still couldn’t see where the tunnel led.

“Come on!” said Lars, scrambling after her. “We have to find Agatha!”

.

[This is the point at which, were this a novel, the narration would cut over to show what’s happening on Castle Wulfenbach. However, as narrator, I choose to take advantage of the nature of derivative works to avoid one of the great _pitfalls_ of derivative works, and _not_ rewrite scenes which are in no way changed from canon. Anyone who would like a refresher is encouraged to begin rereading [here](http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php?date=20060210#.Vmnrjum89Fs), and continue through until the scene returns to Sturmhalten. Then resumes our own story…]

.

The formerly closed off tunnel led to a torch-lit tunnel, which could arguably be defined as a “hallway” due to the erratic occurrence of flagstones. Another ladder, this one thankfully without a rising tide of menacingly bioluminescent sewage, and the rescue party opened a hatch to a real castle corridor, with gold-plated candelabras, plush red carpeting, and Sturmvoraus royal crest emblazoned on the wallpaper.

“How do we find her now?” whispered Lars.

Dimo tapped his nose. “Ve hunt.”

Maxim and Oggie nodded, and the three of them fanned out at the front of the group. Zeetha took the rear, alert for any hint of danger in the opulent hallway.

They took three turns, mostly aimlessly, scentless, before they met anyone—a middle-aged guardswoman, walking quickly and looking scared even before she was slammed into the wall by a jägermonster.

“Der vas a gurl,” Maxim said almost conversationally, sword resting across the woman’s throat. “Verra pretty, from de circus. Vhere iz she now?”

The guardswoman gulped, wide-eyed. “I don’t—”

“Hyu knows someting. Hy ken _schmell_ it.” He leaned in close, showing off his array of razor-sharp teeth rather more than his nose.

The guard evidentially found it a compelling argument. “I don’t, I swear!” she wailed. “We aren’t told anything! Just that the Prince is dead, and the new Prince wants the underground cut off—but nobody’s seen him since then. I’m not even supposed to be on duty right now. It was my morning off.”

“At least we know it’s morning,” said Lars. He rubbed his stomach. “No wonder I’m starved.”

“Does the new prince want the sewers cut off because of the Geisterdamen?” Krosp asked sharply.

The guard jumped, Maxim’s sword drawing a nick of blood from her pale skin. She did her best to look down at the cat. “Y—”

Then her mouth snapped shut and she shook her head, eyes pleading. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She stayed silent.

“Hy tink dot’s all she got, brodder,” said Dimo. He pulled Maxim’s sword arm down and, before the guardswoman had time to relax, hit her hard on the head. She crumpled.

Zeetha stooped to check that she was still breathing. Yep. She rose again. “Do you think Agatha had something to do with the Prince’s death?”

Dimo shrugged. “A gurl like her ken get into lotz of exciting trouble. I vouldn’t be surprized.”

“There’s something fishy going on here,” said Krosp, “and not in a delicious way. I want to find Agatha and get out as soon as possible.”

There was a faint shuffling noise from the fork at the opposite end of the hallway, inaudible if four members of the party hadn’t been jägermonsters and a cat, respectively. Zeetha and Lars followed their gazes.

“That’s not–” Lars gasped. “It is!” He ran forward. “Tinka! You’re okay!”

The clank turned with none of her previous grace and stared at him. All her parts seemed to be there—no limbs missing, no gears showing—but her eyes were vacant and her wig lopsided, and her pink drape looked more like a hospital gown than a dancing frock. She clutched a pile of papers to her chest like a shield. “I-I am bring-ing-ing notes–”

The rest of the rescue party caught up. Oggie put a hand on Lars’ shoulder as he gaped. “Hy dun tink she iz hokay.”

“No,” Lars said softly. He clenched his fists. “Tinka, don’t you remember me? I’m Lars, from the circus. You taught me how to waltz. We practiced by the river. Remember?”

She leaned forward, gyroscoping like a top. “L-Lars?” She shook her head, just barely keeping her balance.

“Easy.” Zeetha said gently, grabbing her arm.

Tinka swayed away, wide-eyed. “Y-you can-annot be here. Circus. The Prince. I- p-please. I require m-m-maintenance. Cannot.”

She made a pushing motion with her hands. Lars caught them, notes and all. “Tinka, I swear, we’ll take you away from here. We’ll find you help. Agatha can—we’re looking for someone else the Prince stole, a new actress named Agatha. She can fix you. Have you seen her?”

“She-she-” Tinka twisted her head beyond what was human. There were jägers on every side of her, not grinning but _there_. Wolves in a pack, surrounding.

“She plays Lucrezia,” Zeetha offered. “Blonde, short, pretty angry if she’s being held. Moxana trusts her.”

“Moxana-a did not know-” Tinka said helplessly. “I—his high-highness-”

She remembered, in shards, the last time there were jägermonsters in Sturmhalten. But she had been whole, then.

Gears ground in her throat, a broken clank’s broken sigh. But she stood a little straighter, and took Lars’ arm like a ballroom dancing partner. “I- will-will show you. He will know what to-oo do.”

.

Tarvek had expected Tinka to return with the notes on her reconstruction that he’d sent her to fetch, for comparison to van Rijn’s sketches. A horde of jagers and circus people did not fit into his plans, particularly when most of them shouted, “Agatha!” and variations thereupon and rushed over to the Girl—though at least one voice exclaimed, “Moxana!” instead, or perhaps as an afterthought.

Then two of the jägers diverted to pin him against the side of the table he’d been working at, and _that_ was a mistake, because he was a trained Smoke Knight and a spark in his own lab. Tarvek swept his arm along the table as he dodged, returning a faceful of acid for the purple monster’s sword stroke, and just _barely_ missed the ram-horned jäger’s cephalic vein with a scalpel. He sidestepped the return swipe by a reciprocal hair, though the few remaining beakers behind him were less lucky—a triple-headed ax was _not_ laboratory-safe.

 _Two_ could play at _that_ game—but Tarvek hesitated. He couldn’t start throwing around the truly destructive chemicals, not with Moxana _right there_ , unable to move—

Then Tinka was there, too, between the jäger and Tarvek, faster than she had moved in years. “No! D-do not hurt him!” The haft of the ax crumbled to ash under her fingers, and the blades lit up and so did the jäger, howling, skin racing with a hundred thousands volts of white-blue burning electricity. She dropped him with a dancer’s graceful dismissal—

—and he lunged for her, eyes burning, and hair smoking, grinning exactly like the monsters in every _old_ Heterodyne story.

“ _Tinka, **no!**_ ” Tarvek flung himself between them, taking a clawed fist to the stomach ( _ouch_ ) but deflecting the rest of the attack to the side. They’d _tear her to pieces_ —

Matching horizontally hilted blades appeared crossed at his throat, and the swordswoman, green-haired and fanged, said, “Don’t move.”

It was a persuasive argument. He didn’t move.

“Vot is hyu doink to her?” snarled the green jäger. He was by the bed, had beaten the Bill Heterodyne actor to holding their mistress’s limp hand.

“ _Nothing!_ ” Tarvek spat back. “She’s _sick_. I’m _helping_ her.”

She was, thank god, still asleep. But it did not look good for Tarvek, even he could see that. A young woman attached to machines in a spark’s lab—no matter that she was the Heterodyne, or that she was in a bed rather than chained to a slab. That was only peculiar, and thus even more suspicious.

A large white cat in a red and gold coat stood on its hind legs by the Girl’s head and sniffed at the tube running into her wrist. “This smells like sedative.”

All three jägers growled. The swordswoman’s strange, horizontally hilted blades flexed a centimeter closer to his [NECK-SIDE] arteries.

“This is not the time to lie,” she said coldly, with an accent he couldn’t place.

Tarvek could feel Tinka trembling against his back. The ram-horned jäger was behind them both, prowling the lab benches. The swordswoman and purple jäger, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief, were between them and Moxana.

The Muse of Prophecy met Tarvek’s eyes and silently held up the Whirlwind. Great power at great risk, expect an unexpected friend, beware of things underground.

Tarvek resisted the urge to grit his teeth. “She’s sedated because she was getting irrational.” He tried to keep the madness from his voice. He didn’t do as well as he thought. “She refused to sleep. She was disturbed because my father tried to use her for a personal experiment. _I_ stopped him, but that made the situation here very delicate, and it was better for everyone that she…rest.”

“Hyu killed hyu poppa?” the green jäger asked suspiciously. “For Miz Agatha?”

“ _Yes_.”

There was the distinct sound of absolutely nobody believing him. Which was unfair, because it was at least partly true.

“There were…other concerns,” he admitted carefully. Obviously carefully. They were already suspicious—better to go Scheming Prince than Romantic Hero. “My father was not the best ruler. He was engaged in a conspiracy with the Geisterdamen. I took advantage of the excitement of Miss Heterodyne’s arrival to…set into motion some things I had been planning for a while.”

“ _Heterodyne?_ ” squeaked the actor, yanking his hand back from where it had been surreptitiously resting on the Girl’s ankle (the jäger having taken up guarding her upper half.)

“Yah,” chorused the jägers. The ram-horned one was poking through Tarvek’s papers, and tearing at least half of them. Tarvek was trying to ignore it.

The swordswoman gave a satisfied smile. “Thought so.”

“Yes, Heterodyne,” snapped the cat. “ _Not_ the focus now, Lars.” He narrowed his eyes at Tarvek. “Unless it’s a problem?”

“Not my concern,” said Tarvek—truthfully. That was the best way to lie. It wasn’t her father who concerned him. “You’d be doing me a _favor_ if you took her. I don’t need the trouble anymore.”

The rescue party exchanged Glances—not Lars as much; even he was increasingly aware that he was the tagalong.

“Hokay den,” said the green jäger. “Ve tek her.” He yanked the intravenous tube from the Girl’s wrist and lifted her from the bed. He peered at the collar around her neck. “Vot iz dis ting?”

“ _Don’t take it off!_ ” Tarvek said sharply. Calm, calm. Scheming Prince—but he’d given her blankets, damn it, and a mattress and pillow, not just a cold slab; he could afford some Romantic here. “She wore her throat out screaming in my father’s experiment. That device is healing her. It shouldn’t be removed for at least four hours.” That would get them far from Sturmhalten.

“Miz Agatha haz a pretty gud voice,” the jäger replied, almost neutrally. “She vould heff had to do a _lotz_ of screamink, hy tink.”

“He was researching vocal harmonics.” Tarvek let a little madness creep back into his voice. “I _did_ say that I killed him.”

“Agatha can decide what to do with it when she wakes up,” the swordswoman suggested. “As soon as we’re out of here.” She pulled her blades back from Tarvek’s throat, and poked him in the side instead. He moved aside obligingly, clearing a path to the door. Tinka continued clinging to his side.

“Yes,” Lars said fervently. “Back to the Circus, and away from all this crazy.” He grabbed the back of Moxana’s cart and started pushing her towards the door.

“No!” cried Tinka. Moxana chimed urgently, doing her best to turn around and look at her abductor.

“What’s wrong?” cried the actor. “Why don’t you want to leave?” He pointed accusatorily at Tarvek. “He stole you both!”

“Hy vas vonderink about dat, ekshuelly,” said the purple jäger. “How did de sitting clenk lady get from de Circus to here?”

The cat had started trotting towards the door, but now he stopped, and cast the jäger a considering look. “That’s a surprisingly intelligent question.” He turned back to Tarvek. “What have you done with the travelling show, your highness?” He gave the title as sarcastically as only a cat could.

“They’ve been detained. Nothing else.” Tarvek folded his arms, Tinka’s cool hand caught in his elbow. “Take the girl, but you are _not_ taking the Muses.”

“We-we are stay-aying,” Tinka supplied.

“Why?” cried Lars.

Moxana chimed again, and held up the King of [[SWORDS?]]. Tarvek felt a cold pit settle into his stomach. This was not how any of his plans went.

“Ektuelly, hy vas tinking ve iz all goink togedder,” the green jäger said with too many teeth. “Oggie, Maxim, valk de Prince at de front und he ken tell us vhere all de best way out iz, und all de fun traps to avoid.”

. . .

[and then there’s some more arguing that I should fade over? Or is it done? I don’t like it. Too many people, dialogue awkward.]

Umm..creeping down hallway. Tarvek shows them the way back, pretty much same as they got in—they’d done well. (He _wants_ Her out of here.) Jägers smell Geisterdamen near the stairs.

POV: Agatha, starting to stir (someone is carrying her—less soft than before, but nice.) Retreat up secret passageway (three taps to brick two left of the torch). Picking up speed. Agatha opens eyes at jostling—“Dimo?”—but can’t talk. “She iz tryink to talk.” “Told you, sore throat,” says Tarvek.

Round the corner: Geisterdamen at the end of the hall! Shit! Tarvek yanks Dimo with Agatha back—no, grabs her. (Smoke trick?) (Agatha blinked—either she was woozier than she thought or suddenly Prince Tarvek was holding her.) “Stall them, I’ll get her away.” “Vy de hell should ve believe dot?” “Believe I want to keep her away from _them_.” Zeetha: “I’ve got them.” She chivies Lars back, too. “Go!”

Tarvek orders Tinka and Moxana to go somewhere else (they’re slow.) More running. Agatha tries to wiggle but Tarvek’s like, “Please stop” and she ends up sorta clinging to his neck. Can’t ask what’s going on. Irked. He can’t Smoke out w/ the extra weight, plus, Zeetha might be helpful in a fight—speak of the devil, Geisterdamen from a side hallway! (They shout?) Tarvek drops Agatha, plants Lars in front of her and Zeetha in front of him (Zeetha plants herself.)

“Don’t you have guards?” asks Zeetha as the Fight goes. “They’re all wasped,” Tarvek snaps, ducking a blade. Agatha meanwhile is trying to ask (again) wtf is happening. She realizes it’s the collar. Deft fingers unhook, uncoil. Thrums. Little shock. “Ah!” Lars tries to keep her back, but she’s Irked™ so,

“Would everybody stop fighting and tell me what is going on _right now?_ ”


	3. Chapters 3-4 + Epilogue (Outline)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've included the still-pretty-messy outline for Ch 1 and 2, in case anyone's curious to see the stages of my writing (for stories long enough to deserve outlines.)

**Chapter 1. (Tipping Point)**

Tarvek tries to kill her but he can’t. Doesn’t have time or authority—Aaronev makes it known v. fast that he wants her here and alive, prob. sends a Smoke Knight to watch on her way to the Castle. Tarvek considers just, like, knifing her on the steps, but he couldn’t get away with it and he can’t make himself _want_ to properly. Meanwhile flirting, moving on automatic…drops something in her drink at dinner than knocks it onto her dress without thinking: _can’t_ just let her die. Increasing blind panic tbh.

  * Aaronev geeks out in the theater; Tarvek sparks to stand, bitterly “he’d wondered if his father knew”. Plan to get Agatha to palace. “There had to be _something_ he could do.”
  * “There was nothing he could do.” [explain]



Chapel! Nononono…getting very sparky here…it’s amazing how easy it is to stab a man in the heart through the back

  * Anevka’s like, “Oh, I was going to do that.”
  * Tarvek: ?!?
  * Anevka: Yeah. Here, my turn. *v. fast movement to knock out Agatha, hold threatening hand to her neck*
  * Tarvek: *brief panic attack until Agatha confirmed breathing* What are you DOING?
  * Anevka: helping you, of course. *unlocks Agatha, gets her up* Did you think I was stupid? Now, I know you can’t let the girl be hurt, but I will kill her if you don’t do what I say, so listen—”
  * “Anevka— _sleep_.” The words tumbled out of his mouth almost before he knew what they were, and he caught the Heterodyne Girl before she slipped out of Anevka’s suddenly loose grasp. His sister had gone still, her eyes dim, her porcelain face slack.
  * “Did you think _I_ was stupid?” he asked softly. He’d never wanted to use that failsafe, but he knew his sister, so he built it in anyway. Her attendants were staring at him now, and at her, and at their father’s softly-smoking body on the floor. And at the girl in Tarvek’s arms, vulnerable and soft and every inch a ticking time bomb ( _to be protected_.)
  * Tarvek closed his eyes, and did his best to draw a deep breath without inhaling Her scent. “Okay. I need a _lab_.”



 

**Chapter 2. (Scramble for Balance)**

Agatha wakes up muzzy, strapped down (w/ blankets at least). can’t make sound. ???

  * Tarvek: “ah good, you’re awake. Sorry about my family; they’re LITERALLY the worst. You’ll be getting better for a while. I’ll keep you hidden, don’t worry. Just rest.”
  * Agatha: *le snooze*
  * Tarvek: _oh thank god_. (can’t actually hurt her, just keep her asleep and silent—drugs totally will wear off, no long-term side effects gDi. Not sure how long he can keep her like that, though: needs time &rest to treat himself, too. For sure can’t do it until dealing with whoever the Baron sends about Father (MUST inform him, alas, because if he found out otherwise there’d be Trouble, and Tarvek isnt’ ready for Trouble with Wulfenbach. _yet_.) Anevka, still sleep-mode, and strongmen, in diff. lab.
  * Next step: clear castle of Geisterdamen and keep it that way. Block off all sewer entrances, even the ones he doesn’t think they know, b/c he can handle a girl who knows nothing but he’s less sure about Lucrezia. Forbid all servants from telling Geisterdamen anything. Stopgap measure but eh. This takes ‘til about dawn?



 

Rescue party: Krosp had to act like a cat to make some Geisters look the other way, but they’re okay. Get hungry, lost, try to make for surface anywhere. End up…in Castle? Jägers can get through pretty much anywhere, after all. Midday.

  * Mission: find Miz Agatha. Can probably by scent. Maybe briefly find strongmen too, and they’re like “aaahhh!! Close the door and don’t kill us!”
  * Tarvek’s in the lab by now? Def. gets shoved against a wall and interrogated by jägers; sorry, love. “She’s sick! I’m helping her!” “Hey guys, this is sleepy-making stuff!” *snarl* “ _’Helping’?_ ”
  * Tinka has gotten Moxana by now, long since in fact. Tarvek squeeed then got to work with Agatha but maybe they’re in the room? Tinka would be an effective, trustworthy guard…Tarvek won’t let her fight the jägers (“D-do not touch-“ “Tinka, no!”); she’d be torn to pieces. So Rescue Party does, in fact, rescue Agatha, and take Tarvek for temporary insurance (and because Tinka is REALLY distressed at the idea of killing him.) (Moxana?)
  * But! Geisterdamen followed them up through the tunnels! Oh shit! Interrogated a servant, got reinforcements? No, probably knew earlier that they were blocked out of the castle and have been amassing for an opening or sthng.
  * Fight at tunnel entrance! “Trust me that the last thing I want is for _them_ to get her.” Agatha is mobile, awake, but still woozy/can’t talk. Tarvek, Zeetha, Lars, and Krosp run while jägers hold Geisterdamen.



Agatha gets voice back (or wakes up enough?) just in time (having been chased probably) to tell everyone to **_~~stop~~_**. _Would everybody stop fighting and tell me what is going on **right now**.”_

  * **_!_** Geisterdamen freeze. so does Tarvek.



 

**Chapter 3. (Fighting Gravity)**

Tarvek froze. Fortunately for him, so did the Geister whose blade he would otherwise have failed to duck. Even more fortunately, Zeetha kept going, kicked her opponent to the ground and put a sword through Tarvek’s, and a second sword through the last remaining priestess-warrior. “The Holy Child!” she had time to exclaim, turning, reaching, to the Girl, before the blade took her in the heart.

The Girl. Agatha Heterodyne. Lucrezia’s daughter, at whose command he now responded, “We are trying to get you out of the castle before the Geisterdamen can seize you and complete their holy mission of transmitting your mother’s mind into your body.”

He managed to bite it off there, before the whole messy story could spill out.

. . .

[Then POV is ??? I AM GOD.]

. . .

Timeline: Wooster’s plane will be spotted in about 12 hours probably and the Baron will show at next dawn.

It won’t take Agatha more than a couple lines to figure out a) her mother is the Other, b) Tarvek is (more or less) wasped, and c) everything else important for now. Tarvek, after all, will oblige if she demands the truth.

         (She’ll stop demanding once she realizes that.)

  * Tarvek’s plan: get her out. Geisterdamen in the tunnels, but not the streets. Can, in fact, walk out the front door. Once they’re in the town proper, they’ll actually be safer, because Agatha can control the townspeople. (Can’t she just stop the other attacking Geisters? Zeetha’s suggestion, maybe.) Tarvek explains the scale of this—summoning engine in the basement, MANY Geisters and they aren’t stupid, and _he_ can get around it sometimes (now that he’s calmed down a little, the Madness Place does help a little against Agatha—ignore non-direct orders?) (he does not mean to admit this.)
  * basically, much better to just get out.
  * So out they go. Agatha POV: Da Boyz stay behind at some point to buy escape time ffrom the castle?
  * Plan works at first. Just barge through town; it’s not like anyone going to stop them. Rescue Party gets some damn food on the way. Boyz catch up at some point, or maybe just, say, Maxim b/c Oggie is staying w/ Dimo who’s badly hurt (holed up somewhere idk.) Maybe Tarvek maybe finds out who Krosp is, mentions the bears.
  * Agatha just wants to get the fuck out of town. Must decide whether to leave Tarvek behind or take him with her. 
    * Take: can’t trust him off-leash; could be very useful (spark, knows situation); if left could help Geisters (willing or not).
    * Leave: can leave orders to cover her/not mess with her plans; she doesn’t NEED help; he can resist Geisters. Most of all, Agatha isn’t actually comfortable with this. 
      * “I don’t like this, I swear. I don’t _want_ to be the Other. When—when everything settles down, I _will_ come back and help undo whatever my mother did to you.”  
“I’d like to believe that.” He really did, desperately. He could believe she meant it now, when she didn’t have anything to lose. He wasn’t as sure what would happen when she had Mechanicsburg behind her and a first taste of victory on her lips. When she was fighting the Wulfenbach Empire and knew she could bring Sturmhalten to heel with a word.  
“I _swear_.”  
He didn’t meet her eyes.  
Agatha [emotions: guilty, scared, indignant, a little protective]. “Are you ready?”  
*nod*  
Agatha channels inner sparky fury, gives ‘stay here &cover me’ orders.)
      * she says “Please”, though. It’s not quite a direct order. And he is so very much in the Madness Place, even now. So he could…ignore it…and she knows that… 
        * [UGH, KIDS.]
      * So they leave out the gates. Tarvek returns (with some lingering orders) because this is his damn town. Tinka returns with him. (Moxana’s in the castle still anyway—another reason for them both to stay.)
      * Unfortunately, as mentioned, Geisterdamen are also quite intelligent. Get to the circus to find swords on throats. Agatha opens her mouth to order them down; Vrin nods and one of the warriors slits the Countess’s throat. 
        * [I don’t like AUs where everything turns out _better_. Who’s to say that canon isn’t the best possible timeline?]
      * While Agatha (and rescue squad) are shocked, the Geisterdamen gag her. Bring Lars along to keep her from fighting. 
        * Vrin says they’ll be fine if Agatha doesn’t fight, then tosses “kill them all” over her shoulder. This doesn’t work. This doesn’t work at all. Narrator only POV: Zeetha and Maxim move first, others follow; Payne finishes it. 
          * [note: I don’t want to fridge a woman, but, like, I want to rip the heart out of the Circus but not kill Payne himself. And Lars is busy]
        * Geisters, hurrying Agatha back, don’t give a shit about the explosions. They’re back in town before Zeetha&Maxim have to stop at the gate.
      * Poor Tarvek gets back to find Geisterdamen gone. Sends guards&knights out searching, retreats to lab for casual tinkering. Interruption from freaking-out Smoke Knights who’d been trailing them through town and he’d ordered to follow Agatha to the border of Balan’s Gap’s territory. _Fuck_. He races to the chapel, only to… 
        * Tarvek caught the doorframe as he swung into the room, slowing to a non-Smoke pace. Agatha, laughing and spinning in the center of the room, hair loose and green eyes bright with delight, greeted him, “Wilhelm! Is that really you? You’re so young!”  
Not Agatha, then.  
He calculated and, before his heart even remembered to keep beating, sank to one knee. “My Lady. I’m afraid you have mistaken me for my father…”
      * (Lars’ body discarded to the side. When it seemed like imprinting on Agatha hadn’t worked, Vrin killed him.)
      * “Wilhelm!” “Nope that’s dad (dec.)” “?!” “…Anevka.” “ _Bring her here_.” 
        * It was nothing like Agatha’s blazing fury, but the command still cut through Tarvek, tired and off-balance, like the Geisterdamen never could. Of course: Lucrezia knew how to speak like herself.  
He spun and took a few steps towards the door before he knew what he was doing. With great effort he stopped (he had to go, had to fetch Anevka) and turned back to Lucrezia. “She is contained for now, my lady. She died…”  
He trailed off. The Lady wasn’t listening, just looking at him with growing delight and an even more terrifying smirk. “I remember!” she exclaimed. “You’re my Storm King, aren’t you? Oh, how _well_ you turned out.”  
*toootally getting too close rn, probably running hands along his shoulders &chest*  
“Aaronev always did have good features, and your mother too.” Looked up, murmured, “ _Give me a kiss_.”  
Tarvek bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek, as quick and dry as he could make it.  
Lucrezia smirked and patted his cheek, the way one might pat a dog on the head. “Oh, you’re a _chaste_ How sweet.” She grabbed his arm and looped his through it, spinning him around again [?]. “We’re going to have _so_ much fun.”



 

**Chapter 4. (Freefall)**

Baron’s man is expected tomorrow or so, so only have about a night to hide or leave. So…Lucrezia will want to hide now, no reason why not. Plan: say Anevka killed Aaronev, explain that she’s been turned off, apologize, get Tarvek approved Prince, and the man leaves (wasped). Meanwhile Lucrezia can amend her summoning engine to get more of herself, then go out and conquer Europa once Klaus is no longer suspicious.

Agatha slept until like midday, so she’s not going to come back for a while.

  * Tarvek explains modern Europan politics to ~~Lucrezia~~ the Lady
  * go work on the summoning engine more! All night! No sleeping! 
    * Zeetha&Da Boyz reunite in sewers? (Zeetha&Maxim snuck in) déjà vu joke. Fight Geisters.
    * Tarvek starts to get sleepy at some point, like 4am, and Lu orders, “Stop falling asleep.” So he stops. Vrin comes in and reports strifing in tunnels. Lu has a Plan.
    * Team Agatha lured into trap. D: D: D: 
      * Boyz fall into acid pit, Lucrezia stabs Zeetha and asks questions.
      * Lucrezia might recognize the name “Chump”. Coy smile. Orders Zeetha wasped before returning to the summoning engine/Anevka’s body. 
        * [don’t worry, she’ll be fine bc I ~~theorize~~ Decided that Skifandrians can’t be wasped, same as Mechanicsburgers. Lucrezia doesn’t know that. Or she does, and just orders Zeetha put in the dungeons for possible use later—other means of mind control, simple hostage…]
      * Airship spotted! Lucrezia and Tarvek keep working on engine until necessary to hide.
      * But news: the Baron himself! Quarantine measures! Must know about revenants – hide? Flee? Streets or tunnels? They were going outside in-canon, so we can probably assume that. No distracting signal, so it’s Lucrezia all the way—but no Tarvek. He’s back at the Castle ready to be indignant and make excuses.
      * At some point roughly here, Wooster finds the Circus and they all decide that the best thing would be to get the hell out of here, preferably with Agatha, Zeetha, and they guess the jägers if necessary.
      * Intercepted by Bug Squad! At gunpoint. They’re very suspicious but giving veerrry temporary benefit of doubt.
      * Weasel check! Vrin gets tied up. Townspeople aren’t rioting, because that was mostly Anevka’s doing in canon. So “Agatha” is captured by the Vespers! And taken to Klaus at circus!
      * Meanwhile in Castle, Tarvek is weasel-checked and found to be infected. He doesn’t have the bacteria(?); he just automatically does the thing…the wasps probably smell the chemicals produced, not the inducer thereof. That’s my theory. He would’ve hastily told Zeetha (wounded) to keep quiet because he thinks he can still help Agatha (he’s mostly just hoping, and trying to placate her because Lucrezia told him to Manage all this. Either way, with Zeetha and Lucrezia and Agatha and Geisters AND the Baron’s men _and_ whatever he knows the rest of the Family is probably up to…it’s standard Tarvek levels of dancing on the edge of a cliff held up by bullshit, really.)
      * Zeetha spills everything as soon as possible, tells them to grab Tarvek because he’s sort of innocent but definitely(ish) wasped, and also a sneaky fucker. So whoever’s going for the castle brings them both to Klaus as well…
      * Several things happen in quick succession: 
        * “Agatha” surrenders, reluctantly but with a backup plan (she does have the spark wasp)
        * Klaus gives her the locket
        * when she poses to put it on, Klaus recognizes Lucrezia posing. He takes menacing step forward, raising his sword. “Lucrezia—”
        * “I’m back!” says Agatha
        * Everyone pauses as Tarvek and Zeetha are brought in
        * Agatha: “Zeetha! What’s going on? Where’s everyone else?”
        * Zeetha steps forward, wary—she’s seen Lu trying to be Agatha before. But this seems to be her zumil. “Agatha?”
        * Klaus: **O** “ >Skifandrian swordswoman!<”  
“>You speak Skiff!?<”  
“>Yes I speak Skiff! Did Zantabraxus send you?!<”  
“>Yes! That’s my mother!<”
        * Several things happen in even quicker succession: 
          * Klaus preforms a very rapid calculation: age and appearance of swordswoman _x_ memories of a tiny squalling baby with a fluff of Wulfenbach-thick green hair _x_ “Lucrezia”
          * = unspoken but very heartfelt _Not my daughter, you bitch!_ lunge
          * Tarvek knows, intellectually, many commonsensical and self-preserving things. On a more visceral level, his calculation is: Baron = enemy _x_ Agatha = the most important person in the world, to be protected and aided for a terrifyingly increasing number of reasons
          * = stop pretending to still be cuffed, steal gun, shoot Klaus in the back, grab Agatha away
          * Someone shouts “Attack!” Zeetha and Tarvek (and Wooster, sniping!) go on the defensive, aided TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF OGGIE, MAXIM, AND DIMO 
            * [I said I didn’t want this to necessarily go better than canon, but I’m not a _monster]_
          * Despite that, our heroes are very quickly losing. Da Boyz are strong but still smarting, Zeetha is already injured, soon Tarvek will follow…
          * Agatha has lost a lot of people today, and more in the last several months. Her calculation is simple: this will stop, at any cost.
          * = ** _SHOWTIME!!_**


  * And then everyone flees, except Klaus who is partially crushed by a chicken house.



 

**Epilogue (Landing)**

Agatha wakes up. Takes off the locket. Sighs in relief…”Aah…hahahaha!”

  * Zeetha lunges and knocks Lucrezia out again as she starts to laugh maniacally, and refastens the locket.
  * Tense Zeetha&Tarvek moment as he’s half a second too slow to stop the knocking out, but he’s fully in support of the locket so they get past it.
  * Agatha wakes again, and Zeetha tells her not to remove the locket.
  * Wooster comes in and offers England. Agatha says Mechanicsburg. Tarvek agrees (it’ll be politically advantageous, militarily strong, etc. And he’s coming along, because it’s his best bet and he doesn’t _have_ ) Agatha repeats: Mechanicsburg.



 


	4. Outline for Entirely Extra Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Completely unedited. Enjoy the babble of my brain.

5? New? MECAHNICSBURG! [Afternoon]

  * Rumors flying
  * Gates, etc. First order of business: get Violetta from work. Some yelling at Tarvek. To side, Tarvek quietly explains sitch w/ Agatha, and also that he’s pretty competent. 
    * He put a hand on her arm and she stilled, ready to smack him off.  
“The Venn diagram overlap of people who aren’t wasped and people I can trust to look out for my best interests includes one person right now, and it’s you. It _does not include_ ”  
She stilled further, as only a Smoke Knight could. “What.”
    * […] “And you staying with her?” *lowers voice* “Voluntarily?” ‘Yeah, I think she really means it and also I sort of _did_ shoot the Baron. And then she [whatever awesome thing Agatha did specifically]” “…uh-huh” “Good. Stay skeptical. I need that. Also give me more painkillers and adrenaline.”
  * Pink ship! Watch Zola (from the shadows, in case she sees Tarvek&Vi) “No! They can’t seriously be doing that _now!_....of course they can, they have to.” Agatha: “?” Tarvek: “Oh. Um. This is…” “You _knew_ about this?” Tarvek flinched. Oh.
  * Carson: “If you’re really the Heterodyne, then why are you hanging out with nobility from Sturmhalten?” Agatha: “They’re helping me.” *proves herself a little*
  * Coffee shop: Van raises eyebrows at Vi&Tarvek. “With the Prince of Sturmhalten and his pet spy?” (Vi: Hey!) “Yes, and you and your grandfather are the ones who’ve been running this town under the noses of every agent we’ve sent in the last eighteen years.” (Vi: _Hey!_ ) “But I’m not the one you have to worry about. Nor that airship. It’s the army following.” 
    * Agatha starts sparking; Vi looks over to see Tarvek’s pupils dilating. Agatha’s moving too fast, so she just knocks him out or bodily drags him away so he won’t tag after her. probably both, in that order.
    * Zeetha or Wooster pops out to say it’ll be a while. When Tarvek wakes up (only in a couple minutes), he decides to go find the approaching army&head them off. Wooster joins because Agatha’s distracted but he and Zeetha don’t trust Tarvek on his own.
  * Oh yeah meanwhile Gil&Klaus discuss things and fight assassins. Klaus says to keep an eye out for Zeetha; maybe she’s here to kill him but probably not—keep her safe



 

 **6?** [later afternoon]

  * They find them! Wooster hitches a ride otherwise b/c they’d know to look for Vi. But Selnikov knows Tarvek may not be acting of his own volition and locks them up. Wooster rescue!
  * (Agatha meanwhile visits the crypt just the same; ditto to the wall and into the Castle)
  * All sneak a ride to the walls on the back of a clank. Then…Gil!
  * “Holzfaller! What’s _he_ doing—”/“Aaahh! Master Gilgamesh!” / “I am Gilgamesh, the son of Klaus! [etc.]” Tarvek: *possible minor apoplexy* *oh shit* “Move! He has to prove himself, he’s going to blow them to smithereens!”
  * Somehow they survive debris and flames. Get Gil out of there (Tarvek stabs the 4thiC in the back like “how are you still this incompetent?” Gil taken aback for a moment but too adrenaline/Spark-high to not snarl back. “Should have known.” “This was _not_ my idea. I was just trying to _stop_ ” 
    * Jenka gets there too, suggests Gkika’s. Tarvek’s like ?? but convinces her he’s on Agatha’s side enough for this.
    * Vole! Gil handles it. Wooster is terrified, poor man.



 

 **7**?? [evening/night through mid-morning]

  * Gil wakes up. Zeetha explains things, including Tarvek’s situation. (He and Vi are out with Van and Krosp.) (Zeetha & Tarvek got medical attention too, though Tarvek maybe didn’t get any jäger medicine)
  * Bar fight (Higgs!), tourists, Torchmen (so much for Tarvek’s plans to go to the ship.) Theo&Sleipnir, hijinks. Wooster’s there, too? Nah, he ditched when Agatha went into the Castle. 
    * Tarvek w/ Vi has an aside debating-actions moment while waiting for Gil to show up for Castle. Decided to gamble on Agatha
  * Aaaand Zola! “Gil! What are you doing here?...With him?!” Gil: * _very_ rapid mental calculations* “Oh, him? Not sure, we picked them up.” 
    * Gil knows Zola from Paris but not as Mongfish
    * Tarvek also only knows Zola from Paris, but already knows about the whole False Heterodyne Plot, so he’ll be insta-wary
    * Zola thinks Gil is a pirate, knows exactly who Tarvek, and that he’s probably on Agatha’s side
    * Zola knows Gil knows who Tarvek is.
  * Gil convinces Zola he doesn’t know why Tarvek’s here, only just ran into him and Vi. Tarvek plays along, somehow indicating to Zola that he recognizes her as part of the FHP (wink?) but won’t interfere? She doesn’t buy that but figures he’s outnumbered for now. Tiktoffen and Tarvek fall back and talk; Tiktoffen knows who he is, asks if he knows who Gil is (slight wide eyes&emphasis.) Tarvek gets the second layer of question, but feigns ignorance re: Gil, because habitual feigning of obliviousness. Tells him about Selnikov’s army and the airship, but not that it was Gil (for the army b/c isn’t sure who’s side he’s on.)


  * Repairs! Gil and Tarvek _geek out_. between the two of them, they get the door open before anyone else falls asleep? In which case they all head over to the Lion…
  * Meanwhile Agatha and Moloch survived the clank somehow. Moloch probably had to ride it. Poor man.
  * With no sick Tarvek, Agatha wouldn’t go after them until the Castle slightly panickedly told her how close they were to shutting it down. If they finished before she got there…



 

 **8???** [mid-morning]

OH SHIT, CASTLE DEAD. Gil and Tarvek (and maybe Theo by this point) stare at each other like ‘there is a slim chance that we fucked up’. Zola crows, Violetta facepalms, Zeetha is mad at them. Now, Zola’s plan is to go announce herself Heterodyne now, or maybe fix the Castle prettier?

  * Klaus, just gotten into travel-clank (wasped or not he’s a TERRIBLE PATIENT), sends Bang with a squad to extract Gil



Agatha no longer has back-up other than Moloch and she isn’t sure how much she can trust anyone but, like, Zeetha, Krosp, and Tarvek (once she finds him). Tries to sneak up on them—but one of Zola’s people grabs her.

  * Somehow loses locket? If Zola’s goon has a knife to her neck (Zola probably knows about Tarvek. “Cut her throat if she opens her mouth.”) none of the others will move fast enough to stop Zola from taking it off—for symbolic Heterodyne purposes, not b/c she knows about Lucrezia. Pretty much all Team Agatha shouts “no!” but too late.
  * Lucrezia laughs maniacally, wigging out holder so he mostly lets go. Probably snaps, “ _release me!”_ and he does, and she’s like “ooh” and looks around, taking in the assemblage and the trilobite on the wall, and snaps, “ _Kill them all”_ and takes off. 
    * FIGHT SCENE! Zola’s Black Guard, Tarvek, Snaug v. Gil, Zeetha, Vi, Theo, Sleipnir, Zola, (Higgs), Tiktoffen, Madboy Chorus. 
      * Tarvek stilled like a hunting cat. “Violetta, I am so, so sorry.” It’s only by reflex, ingrained since she was a toddler, that she dodges his first attack. Then it was a flurry. They paused for breath when the others started to move. “You actually _are_ good!” she accused. “You _sneak_.” “I _told_ you,” he snapped. “Why aren’t you _stopping_ me?” She smacked away his attempt to steal one of her poisoned daggers. “You keep shrugging it—” she blew her best knockout powder in his face. He sneezed. “Off!” she finished as he fell. She looked around franticly [battle description: spiderlegs shorted out, Mittelmind holding Smaug at arm’s length, Moloch wildly swinging a wrench, Zeetha taking two people at once, etc.] Grab Wulfenbach, stab the guy he was fighting, spin him towards Tarvek, who’s already getting to his feet, a little bleary. “We’ve never been able to kill the Baron so you must know how to fight Smoke Knights, right? And you’re a brawler. Knock him out!” *turns back to steal a weapon from one of the Guard* “And don’t kill each other, or your Lady Heterodyne will be cross!”
    * Eventually everyone’s dead or unconscious, people look around “where’d Agatha go?” “Lucrezia.” “And Zola?” 
      * She ran into Von Pinn, but Higgs was there too so awesome Higgs v. Von Pinn fight that nobody else gets to see? AWESOME fight.
      * “I’ve got the Lady here, sir” *Higgs proffers unconscious Lu/Agatha* “Now that we’ve stopped fighting, we can find that locket thing?”
    * they do so. Agatha wakes up. “ _Let-_ “ Higgs lets go. she sees she’s safe. Gil. Dopey smiles. Then Gil’s vision goes way too bright (Agatha does not in fact have a halo) and he faints.



 

 **Evidently 9** [mid-morning – mid-afternoon?]

  * Vi: *checks him, and belt* wha- that’s not one of mine! I don’t recognize it at all! *looks at Tarvek* Oh no.
  * Wake up Tarvek (“Agatha?”), get Gil to lab, discover they can’t cure him. Argue. SCIENCE! SVV idea. Tarvek almost volunteers but Zeetha, considering, beats him to it. logic: she got the jagerstuff boost and he didn’t, and that’s definitely the only reason yep totally nothing to see here. (Vi: “are you sure [you want to work with her when she’s sparky?]” Tarvek: yeah she won’t manage otherwise and it’s sorta my fault” “politically you should WANT him dead.” “…yeah.”)
  * Lightning fails, and Castle isn’t there to give alt. suggestion—but Von Pinn is. 
    * Does Tarvek being Storm King and Von Pinn being Otilia come up here?
  * Agatha, VonPinn, Tarvek, Violetta go down to basement, get Zeetha and Gil set up.



 

[others come down, probably Theo and Sleipnir

 

  * At roughly which point Bang finds them, nearly skewers Agatha? “Get away from him!” “What-”
  * Shouting catches Castle!Otilia’s attention from below; she starts coming up. Eventually she’ll make it and Tarvek will have to get beat up by her a little. Revivification goes fine otherwise though, just the two of them.
  * When they go down to Lucrezia’s lab, it’s OT3+Violetta and Bang—though maybe she’d stay with Zeetha?
  * At some point: Zeetha recognizes skull of Bang’s bindi, asks if she knows certain pirates. Bang is like “Why?” Zeetha explains. Bang tries to kill her. Much shouting and fun swordy violence, with actual death narrowly averted by Gil. 
    * Possibly Bang leaves to complain to higher authority i.e. Klaus—though idk it seems much more likely that she’s just _keep trying_.



 

.

 

EXTRA BONUS FICLET: post-canon where OT3 are happily ruling Europa and Agatha is Lu-free and Tarvek got the wasp effect cleared from his system

but he'd still totally have nightmares about it? because he has been since he was a kid so why should it stop just because he knows it's over? and he wakes up all scared and telling himself it's only a dream

(wasps and ghosts and whispers in the dark, his spark blazes inside but he can’t move because she says stay still be a dear; caught without ropes or chains and there’s blood…)

but extra verification is better so he rolls over and pokes Agatha and is like, "tell me to do something"

and she's like "hrmphg" because she's half asleep (Tarvek still nightmares subtly, all still and quiet)

*poke* "Tell me to do something. Please." with just a touch of desperation in his voice.

*grumpy sleepy Agatha noises* "Go back to sleep." "No, in your-" "O-oh." Her eyes widen, lighting up a little (with wakefulness, and a flicker of sadness, and a protective ferocity that is all Agatha.) "Um…/stand on your head/."

Tarvek closes his eyes, sighing faintly and relaxing muscles he hardly realized were taut as he searches himself for any inclination to follow her orders and finds absolutely nothing.

He opens them again to see Agatha biting her lip at him, shoulders canted forward like she's just barely holding herself back from putting her arms around him. But she is. Holding back, despite all that sparky ferocity. Waiting for him to feel comfortable again.

He wraps an arm around her waist and buries his face in her hair. It smells like honeysuckle shampoo and engine grease and ozone. "Thank you."

Agatha lays a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "Any time," she promises.

There's a shifting in the mattress behind him as Gil finally notices people are whispering next to him. (It's a miracle, Tarvek thinks for at least the hundred-and-eighth time, that nobody's ever assassinated Gil in his sleep.) "Something wrong?"

"Nightmare," murmurs Agatha. Tarvek squeezes her a little tighter. Half a second later, Gil is hugging them both, covering Tarvek's back and bringing one leg over to twine with Agatha's. (Presumptuous, some part of Tarvek thinks reflexively.) "It's over now," Gil says, with the same note burning in his voice as Agatha's. It's almost possessive, but not in an unkind way. Tarvek has long since memorized the way Gil curls around those he loves, not like a cage but as if he's determined to turn every part of himself into a shield.

Tarvek lets himself lean against it, and rubs his hand up and down Agatha's back. She purrs and snuggles closer. She’s as soft as she was when he held her in Sturmhalten, but stronger and infinitely less terrifying. "I know," he says softly, and, because it's a comfortable thing to say while willingly caught between them, again, "I know."


End file.
